


Unsteady and Broken

by Arctic_Sea_Witch, DarthPotter



Category: Descendants (Disney Movies), Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-01
Updated: 2018-03-25
Packaged: 2018-12-09 23:55:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11679741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arctic_Sea_Witch/pseuds/Arctic_Sea_Witch, https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarthPotter/pseuds/DarthPotter
Summary: There is no love on the isle. No warmth, nor friendship. There is only schadenfreude and gang activity. You skulk around with certain groups for protection, or having similar goals. Your parents won't provide safety so you have to find it on the streets among the sadistic and desperate.





	1. Chitter Chatter

There is no love on the isle. No warmth, nor friendship. There is only schadenfreude and gang activity. You skulk around with certain groups for protection, or having similar goals. Your parents won’t provide safety so you have to find it on the streets among the sadistic and desperate.   
For some, staying on their own was just logical. Carlos was going to be a mad scientist, no need to be slumming around the streets throwing rocks at babies and stealing candy from cars. Besides, no one on the small island could match him intellectually, so there would be no point in working with anyone else. Carlos would be busy trying to build the next big mechanical miracle and the others would just be sneering at the rest of the urchins walking by or boasting about how they’d be the next big villain.  
Carlos had no reason and no time for all that. He was busy trying to build a transmitter to pull a signal from Auradon. Something to distract the usual flow of ANN (Auradon News Network) or the Isle buying channel. If it worked, he could go further, perhaps try to gain a wifi signal to help expand his research resources.   
Fiddling with the mess of wires and parts he had constructed so far, Carlos came to the conclusion that he’d have to acquire more components to complete his work. He ran through the scenarios in his head over and over again, as per usual scheming. Carlos arrived at the docks early, 42 minutes to be exact. Hide behind the dumpster, in a modified refrigerator box that he decked out himself. Inside was reinforced with all manner of tape and plastics to stabilize the structure through wavering weather conditions and possible property destruction from isle pests. It wasn’t the best “crow’s nest”, but it had held up thus far. He could peer out across the pier and practice patience as he waited for the massive barge to dock. There would be others of course. There always were. All around, probably in the dumpster right next to him. All around, eyes focused on the incoming vessel, a sailing pile of unsatisfied hope. To some, it was a gold mine, those who were strong, quick, and ran with a dependable crew that was ruled with an iron fist. To others, like Carlos, it was an anxiety attack with on water. It was his only means of gaining the parts he needed for his projects, and items to keep his mother as content as possible. He’d get lucky sometimes and find an old makeup compact or princess gown that he could bring back to Hell Hall as a temporary appeasement. The appeasement was usually short lived as Cruella quickly found out the items were useless, but they lasted long enough for Carlos to find a quiet place to hide from her rage.  
Today he needed to focus though, he was almost done with his transmitter as far as he could tell. The young evil genius needed a dial and something to use for an antenna. Both of which should be easy garbage that no one else would be interested in. There had been times where he’d covet a lucky find only for a punk to notice him, steal it and chuck it over board when they realized it served no purpose for them. To Carlos, it meant he’d be weeks behind on his device.   
A loud horn rattled the shacks and stone castles around the island. The barge was pulling in. Carlos could swear, even from his limited visual perception he could see shuffling all around the pier. Kids getting ready to make a run for garbage. Carlos pushed slightly on the makeshift door of his refrigerator box. A quick glance around and De Vil heir saw something crawling. Perfect!, he thought and leaned down. “Hey-uhh…hey excuse me?”  
A small bit of green smoke emitted from his mouth as he spoke.  
The crawling insect(which looked like a large beetle) stopped and turned towards Carlos. There was a buzzing noise and then a word or two.  
“….are…talking..”  
Carlos always felt awkward doing this. He wasn’t fond of bugs but they were helpful in certain situations. He preferred birds, they saw past the barrier.   
“Yeah, I can do that. Can you help me? How many humans are you able to sense in a half mile radius?”   
The bug was silent for a minute, moving a bit while muttering. “…24..”  
Carlos thanked the beetle and let it pass by. Talking to all manner of animals was becoming a normal part of Carlos’s life. His first discovery was when Beelzebub, the cat he had gotten from Evie’s sixth birthday party, asked for water. A scared 9 year old Carlos screamed for his mother(one of the few instances where he asked for her assistance). Cruella heatedly explained the ability to communicate and control animals that was granted to her years ago. Although he could bend these creatures to his will by just concentrating a bit, Carlos preferred not to use this gift as his mother did. It took longer to get the information or task he needed done, but he could deal with the time if it meant not becoming like his mother.   
He reflected on the new information he’d received. 24, the evil genius really needed to step up his game. He could see the giant mass approaching. Leaning down, Carlos tightened and tucked his laces and backpack straps. He’d need to be quicker today, the sun was barely shining through the clouds. More pests would be swarming than usual, but the young evil genius was determined to get what he needed.


	2. Fish Bait

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm bad at pirate speak...

Tick tock tick tock  
Boring...incredibly boring…  
Tick tock tick tock  
The loots been low..someone is probably skimmin from the top  
Tick tock tick tock  
Grubs been crap..more crap than usual  
Tick tock tick tock  
Should figure out who's been takin a little for themselves  
Tick tock tick tock  
Need Gil to get the damn Cabin Boy to clean the floors...he's the only one who could talk to that kid  
Tick tock tick tock  
Gonna drive my hook into the jaw of whoever stole from us...from Uma   
Tick tock tick tock  
No damn loyalty expected among thieves

Harry Hook sat back on his chair. His dirty boots crossed at the ankles atop one of the many tables at Ursula’s Fish and Chips. The pirate prince rolled over the daily needs of the crew in his mind while casually polishing the family heirloom, Captain James Hook’s Hook. Chores aside, the possible promise of driving his most prized possession through someone's throats was invigorating. His thoughts rattled on past duty and loyalty and he laughed slightly (like always) at the thought of Hook’s Hook. His father’s true name had not been used in decades, but Harry figured that Captain Killian Jones’s Hook didn't have as much fire behind it.   
“Muscle mold” A loud thud hit the table close to Harry’s boots. The pirate jumped in surprise, pulling his feet to the ground and turning towards the intrusion.  
“Whatdya call me, mate?”  
Gil stood on the other side of the table, eyes wide in shock. He probably had no idea, then again, he never did. “Muscle...mold..what?! Not you! The muscles..for the special tonight...they have too much mold on them.”  
The son of Gaston nervously shuddered as Harry rose from his chair menacingly. He wasn't going to hurt Gil, but the pirate prince loved seeing the others loose their cool.   
“Yer tellin me..the muscles are..moldy?” He took a step towards Gil with every word, prompting Gil to become more nervous.  
Harry shoved the hook straight into the table next to the bag. He peered back at Gil smiling, then turned his attention to the netted bag. He pulled one out and examined it, while taking small glances at Gil. Intimidation held the hunter’s son in place.   
“Gil..how did ya conclude they were moldy?” Harry continued to examine the muscle and bag.   
“Well...they smell bad.”  
The pirate prince slammed the muscle back into the bag, looking back at his fellow crew member and sighing.   
“They are muscles...They are supposed to smell bad, fish fer brains!”   
Gil peered off the the side and smiled. “..Oh yea!! Sorry, man. Totally forgot!”  
Harry rolled his eyes, picking up his hook. “Regardless of your lapse in memory, we got a job t’do today. Someone's been stealin from the loot. I figure we grab a bunch o’ junk off the barge and set it up as bait. Wait it out, y’know? See who's skimmin off the top.”  
“You're gonna go all the way to the barge to get some useless garbage to use as bait? Why not just check around here? I'm sure these a bunch of stuff just layin-”  
“Presentation! Dear Gil, it's all about presentation!” Harry spun away from the table, raising his arms in a grand gesture. Gil was so used to this, he ducked to avoid getting hit by one of Hook jr.’s arms.   
“..uhhh what?”  
Harry spun toward Gil, quickly approaching him.  
“If the thief knows we’re going to the barge, they'll know we’ll be scorin sometin good. It's a motivational prompt!”  
Gil looked dumbfounded. Harry sighed and grabbed his shoulders.   
“We let everyone know we’re headin to the docks. Then we go, grab some junk and throw it on top o’ the pile. The person who's been stealin will eventually try t’ nab it. That's when we get em!”  
“Ohh!! Like live bait but with not live things?” Gil nodded his head, smiling. In his own way, he understood.   
Harry stepped back, his face covered in concern.   
“Ya should get yerself checked out one day, mate. Now come on. We got rumors to be spreadin!”   
Gil didn't really like the barge raids. It meant a lot of yelling and confusing orders. He'd probably have to pummel some kids and steal their hard found treasures, fun.   
He crouched down next to Harry who was leaning against an old, wooden freight box. A few members of the crew were pacing around the box or sitting on the ground waiting. As crazy as these trips were, maybe Gil could find a new string for his cross bow.   
A loud noise from the ocean pulled Gil from his musings. The pirates began to clammer with enthusiastic noises, preparing to hit that boat. The other kids that were inevitably hiding around the piers meant nothing to their crew. They always came in hard and left loaded.


	3. Garbage picking

The chaos that erupted on the barge was insane, as usual. The captain of the junk ship deadbolted himself into the control room with members of his crew. As routine, until they were sure each little spawn had what they wanted and cleared out. This usually took several hours and there was not much left, other than actual useless garbage. The pirates were the worst. Always starting sword fights, then the hunters would aim unloaded guns and end up using their rifles as clubs. The non-magic magical kids paired with thieves and snuck around like rogues.   
Among the craziness, Carlos bolted and slid in and out of areas, looking through piles as fast as he could. Several others flew by him in their own searches. The De Vil heir was insignificant and easily went unnoticed. He managed to grab a lipstick container and a lace glove that wasn't horribly damaged. He would keep an eye out for more products of his mother’s favor, but he was focused on the components he needed for his device.   
An hour passed and he was losing hope. There were significantly fewer kids on the barge now which meant they had gotten all they needed. He was grateful this wasn't completely a run for treasures, otherwise he'd have been screwed.   
Ripping open a bag, Carlos considered leaving with only the items he had found for his mother. The bag was full of broken glass and...a broken radio! Jackpot! He used an empty bag of chips to slide the glass and pick up the busted technology. It probably only needed a new part or two for it to work again. Those Aurodon idiots were too lazy to fix slightly broken things on their own. Carlos gently but quickly began putting the radio in his bag when he heard a loud metallic scratching noise.   
“Well look at this now...How'd a little, lost puppy get all the way out here?”   
Carlos turned, eyes wide knowing that distinct accent. “He..hey Harry..I-”  
“Don't care why yer here, mutt. I am, however, awfully interested in that there item ya stuffed in your sack.” The pirate gestured towards Carlos’s backpack with his hook.   
Carlos slowly stood, slipping the pack onto his arm, attempting to present himself confidently as possible (“Confidence is the key to any situation” his mother had taught him). “It's nothing, Harry. Just a broken wooden box. Mom needs a place for earrings.” Hold your head high, don't stutter, look him dead in the eye and believe your story, the evil genius told himself.  
Harry slowly approached him, swaying and playing with his hook. “Are ya tryin to tell me, Cruella De Vil would store her trinkets in a..what was it? Broken. Wooden. Box?”   
He was right in front of Carlos now, and the younger teen couldn't help but stare at the shiny silver weapon that was almost at his eye level as Harry towered above him. “Try again, pup.”  
Carlos looked up at Harry’s pale eyes. He lost his confidence in that threatening stare. “It's a..wooden b-” SLAM.  
The hook dug deep into the wall behind Carlos, that he had unwittingly backed into. Harry held his gaze and the De Vil heir was paralyzed with fear.   
The pirate slid the bag off of Carlos’s shoulder. He unzipped it and peered inside. Carlos had realized the hook was still in the wall while Harry pulled out the radio. He forgot sometimes that Harry had both hands and was just carrying around his father’s deadly prosthetic. “An old box ya say? It's decorated too fancy for somethin like that. What with all these wires and dials. Now where would the former Queen of the fashion empire store her jewelry in this thing?” He smiled back at Carlos. Of course Harry would win this. If the white-haired kid wanted to make a run for it, surely the rest of the crew would be right around the corner. Laughing at his unfortunate situation.   
“It's..it's for a project. For school.” Complete failure, Carlos turned his gaze downward.   
“Fer school, eh? Yer smart aren't ya? Always fiddlin with wires and gears. So, I'm curious, pup, what are ya doin with this contraption?” He held it up, examining it in the little bit of sun that shone through the clouds. Peeking up for a bit, Carlos got a better look at the device. It was almost in even better condition then Carlos thought.   
“Experimenting..with signals.”   
“What's that now? Tryin to pick up somethin from the mainland? What's so interestin about that place? Nah, not interestin at all. Should just smash it and save ya the trouble-”  
“NO!” Busted. Carlos couldn't hold his composure. He desperately reached for the radio. Harry easily shoved the smaller teen back into the wall.   
“Ahh,so tell me the truth, pup. I'm guessing this ain't fer no school project then.” The pirate’s smile could slice Carlos’s throat.   
Carlos desperately searched for the words that would get him away from Harry with the radio, but nothing came out. Harry’s expression went cold when Carlos said nothing. He ripped the hook out of the wall, Carlos yelped.  
“A transmitter!! I'm trying to make a transmitter! Maybe..get wifi...information.”   
Harry stopped and took a step back. He started to laugh menacingly. “Seriously?! What a brainiac ya are. Here ya go, De Vil. Have fun with yer wires.”   
He shoved the radio back into Carlos’s hands with a harsh laugh. The De Vil heir fumbled with the device to get it back into his bag. He barely gave Harry another look before making his way out of this section of the barge.   
Carlos was almost to the door when he saw the silver glint in the corner of his eye and the metallic sound that followed. A sword lodged into the door frame back to the main deck. Carlos looked behind him and remembered right, Harry Hook is a lunatic.   
The pirate smiled at Carlos the same way he had smiled at Lady Tremaine while he insisted that the items he was selling her were better than the normal garbage that arrived regularly on the shores of the Isle.  
“I said ya could have the toy, but I didn't say ya could leave.” Harry stalked towards Carlos who stood, shocked in the doorway.   
“I..I don't have anything else, really!” Carlos was shaking. He was pathetic in unpredictable situations.   
“Nothin? I let you have that there radio, though. I got nothin in return.” The pirate was so close to Carlos now, pulling the sword from the doorframe with ease. The smaller teen forgot how strong Harry was.   
“I've got a fun idea though. How about we make a deal, pup?” It was less a question and more of a statement.  
Carlos looked up into Harry’s pale eyes before he felt the cold metal of the hook underneath his chin.


	4. Floating Bachelor Pad

Carlos had never left land before. Technically the Jolly Roger was docked for all eternity, but it still floated, tied up and forced to bob on the shallow waters by the pier. The De Vil heir followed Harry aboard his father’s famous vessel, and into a room at the far end. Looking around, Carlos guessed this large room was the Captain’s quarters.   
Harry sauntered in, as familiar as ever with this space, hanging his hat on a rack and throwing his red tattered coat on a chair adjacent to a large, dusty, gaudy desk.   
“Welcome to my humble abode, pup!” He threw his arms out and spun around in one of his usual over-the-top gestures.   
It was huge when Carlos really took it all it. The room could honestly fit several beds in it, and mostly likely housed Harry’s Wharf Rats most of the time. He was sure in the past the room was very grand. The silver and gold that were set into the framework of various furniture and fixtures was tarnished and dusty. The once immaculate wood work, carved so passionately, was cracking and moldy. There was cobwebs and broken remnants of the past everywhere. Large windows flanked a fireplace on a stage-like section that the De Vil heir guessed was for peering out at the sea. The bookshelves carved right into the walls held no books, just various items that were probably stolen and more dust. The Carlos couldn't honestly tell if the rot and ruin of the room was a result of Harry’s laziness or the barrier just naturally making everything crap.   
Carlos’s eyes stopped wandering and were instantly on Harry. “This is..your room?” The younger teen asked nervously. “Where...where does the rest of your family stay, then?” Honestly, this particular part of the ship could probably fit an entire family comfortably.   
Harry’s pale eyes followed Carlos as he walked around the Once great captain’s quarters.   
“On the piers. Pops couldn't handle the thought that his precious ship would never sail again. Freed up space for meh own flat though.” Harry’s flaunting around his own Bachelor pad had the pirate standing too close for Carlos’s comfort and the white-haired boy backed away.   
“So, ummm what exactly are we doing..in your room?” Carlos had backed up too much without realizing and fell back into something soft, covered in blankets. His bed? Right bedroom..he has to sleep somewhere.  
He was ripped from his thoughts when Harry was right in front of him. The pirate must have noticed the nervousness on Carlos’s face and laughed, taking the opportunity to be his usual creepy self. Harry leaned in a little too close for the younger boy’s comfort.   
“Ye can trust meh, pup.” Carlos didn't think Harry’s smile could get more threatening. “I bet I could let ya in on a secret of mine.” Harry raised his father’s famous hook towards Carlos’s face. “Bad things happen teh those goin about the island blabbing personal information, savvy?”  
The De Vil heir closed his eyes and shook his head yes slowly. He wanted out of this uncomfortable situation.   
He felt something rush past his head then a moment later something heavy dropped into his lap. The younger teen couldn't help but open his eyes. The Pirate prince was somehow a bit away from him already.   
“W-what??” Carlos was confused, staring at the ornate box in his lap and then back to Harry.   
“Ye know what that contraption is?” He gestured towards The box in Carlos’s lap.   
The younger teen curiously and cautiously lifted the lid. He stared at the contents for a moment in silence before lifting his head toward the pirate. “Harry...is this-”  
“-my mother’s.” The pale-eyed looked solemnly at the music box, still keeping some distance. His words were calm, calmer than Carlos had ever heard from Harry.   
“I can trust ya, right pup?” The words were sincere, serious even. He place his treasured hook on the desk in the middle of the room. Taking a moment to collect himself, Harry dragged the desk’s chair towards the bed, placing it in front of Carlos and taking a seat on the old brown wood.   
Carlos nodded his head slowly, at a loss for words at Harry’s unusual softness.  
“My mother gave that contraption to meh as a child. Not to my sisters who'd probably have more use for a device like that, but teh me. No idea why and she never gave meh a reason.”  
Carlos studied the brown box. It had some size to it, probably to store nice jewelry. There were black and green decorations on each of the corners. The top bore a reflective oval, surrounded by a silver floral design. Inside was lined with deep red velvet. The inside of the lid was a dirty old mirror with a chip on the lower left side. The inside was divided into three sections, most likely to separate the trinkets you would store. The back had a gorgeous silver spinner. Carlos went to to twist it when Harry reached out and gently placed a hand on the spinner. The corner of his lips moved upward as if he was remembering something pleasant.   
“Harry..?”  
The pirate shook his head and sat up. He released the spinner and combed the same hand through his hair. “Yea, anyways, that dial there, it don't work no more. See it used teh play music. Stopped workin a while ago.” Harry looked into Carlos’s eyes and the white-haired boy could swear he saw pleading. “Yer good at gears right? Ya think you could fix it?”   
The De Vil boy stared dumbfounded at the pirate. All of that show boasting and prancing around threateningly and all Harry wanted was this music box to sing again? Carlos was so confused by the last 2 hours of his life he nearly forgot what Harry had asked him. He shook his head slightly to bring him back to reality, or what he thought was reality.  
“I can try. Never worked with anything like this before.”  
“Try ya will than.” Harry stood, dragging the seat back to the desk. He made a gesture, beckoning Carlos to the desk to which he guessed would be his work area. “There will be hell teh pay if that bird don't sing again. Remember, pup, I let ya off easy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Took a lot of influence for Harry's room from the movie Hook  
> https://youtu.be/bnh6ZDKOVOI


	5. Swan Song

Carlos had been fiddling with the music box for about an hour now. He worked with mismatched screwdrivers to open up the contraption to study the insides. The actual mechanical components of the box fit together in the small section of the back, rather than taking up the entire bottom. It was composed of a cylinder with notches, a comb-like piece that sat along it, two metal gears that wound into a white plastic gear, a round housing with what looked like thin metal inside and a spindle in the shape of a T. His eyes took in the details of every small metal and plastic piece inside.   
“...so...your mother..”  
“Ya aren't gonna break concentration if ya start small talk are ye?” Harry was now sitting on his bed, fiddling with some trinket in his hands but staring intently at Carlos.   
The De Vil heir laughed slightly, raising his eyes for a second toward the pirate, before returning to the contraption. “Not really..but I mean, if you want to tell me a story while I work, I wouldn't mind.” Carlos didn't know why he was so interested. Perhaps because most of the Isle kids had only one parent regardless if they knew the other or not.   
Harry laughed slightly, rolling his eyes. “Ya like stories, do ya pup?”  
“I can't lie and say I haven't considered knocking on Jay’s door to see if Scheherazade would tell me one of her famous stories.” Carlos looked up for a second and realized how silly and childish he must have sounded. Harry, however, laughed again.   
“Ya continue teh fix that thing ‘n I'll help ya along with a story then.” Harry ruffled his hair and suddenly became very serious. “But if I find out ya went blabbing teh all sorts around here about meh personal business, yer mum’s not the one ya should be fearin.” Carlos slowly nodded his head and began to work. Harry dramatically cleared his throat. “Mum was the only good thing in Dad’s life 20 years back. After years of pillaging and plundering he found himself in a coastal town in the north. Small town, lots of nice folk. Pops decided to take a holiday there. That’s where he met her. Golden hair and a fierce attitude. They fell in love and Dad kept makin excuses to stay longer, to the dismay of his crew. Eventually he ran out of ‘em and asked her to go with him.”  
Carlos looked up from the small innards of the box. “Aren't pirates superstitious of women on ships?”   
Harry sent a harsh look towards Carlos, then a second later it turned into a smile. Typical mood swing of the pirate prince. “Aye, but I let you onto my vessel didn't I?”  
Carlos shot Harry an angry look. He wanted to retaliate but decided against it. Hook had home field advantage so an offensive move wouldn't be smart. He went back to tinkering with the mechanical box and kept his mouth shut.  
“True, pirates are superstitious but I'm guessing love won out over paranoia. So mum left port with the crew and sailed away. I hear that she tried talkin them out of a lot of dirty deeds. How can ya marry a scoundrel at sea and not expect them to be deplorable? Didn't get much details about those days though. Only what happened when the King took control.” Harry paused, reflecting on the event that had doomed them all to their floating prison. He had heard stories from many of the inhabitants. Some ripped from eternal slumber, others ripped from their homes, from lands far away. Harry had never seen the villains scared but he always imagined in the moment they all felt true fright at the unknown fate that had just befallen them.   
“I've heard different accounts of how the Jolly Roger came to be docked here. Some say it sailed into a fog and the next minute they were tied to the piers. Others say the ship took flight as it once did and landed on the side of the island. Whichever way it reached its destination, one thing was clear. At some point, mum had teh choose...Stay with m’ Dad...or return to Auradon as if he didn’t exist.”  
Carlos didn't know when Harry had made his way across the room, but somehow the taller teen was standing uncomfortably close behind him. “Where abouts is your father?”  
The De Vil heir looked up from his work showing a hint of frustration. “You want me to get this done, right?” he asked, a bit shaken by the question.  
Harry laughed and returned to sitting on his bed.   
“...He's here, though...on the island. He wasn't a hero. Just as bad as mom in fact.” Carlos added, returning to studying the T-shaped piece.   
Opening up to anyone was a strange thing in these parts. Normally, the inhabitants kept their personal facts to themselves. Since Harry had decided to share his information, Carlos didn't mind letting go a bit. Honestly, it felt good to tell someone.   
“Is he-”  
“What happened, after your mom made her decision?” Carlos cut Harry off. He didn't want to give away too many details.   
Harry laughed a bit, then his face grew solemn. “She decided to stay with Dad on the island. I think she knew what this place would become. Didn't want him teh be alone, I wager. He often referred to her as his savior.”   
There were a few moments of silence. Carlos clicked the bottom compartment shut.  
“We came along then..me and my two sisters...things were good for awhile. Well, as good as they can be around here. Then...she changed. Something went..wrong in her head.”  
The younger teen twirled the last screw, flipping the box right-side up.  
“She's gone now.”  
Carlos wound the box and a song rang out. He smiled triumphantly, but it instantly left his face when he looked up to see Harry. Carlos could swear the pirate prince had a tear in his eye, but he wouldn’t betray that fact about the intimidating pirate. He was almost hypnotized by the box’s song.  
“I haven't heard that thing sing fer years..”  
Carlos had never seen an inhabitant on the island act like this, show this much emotion. He looked back at the box, not wanting to stare at this new thing.   
“What...what happened to your mother Harry?”


	6. Melody Maddness

Harry was utterly transfixed by the box’s song. He saw an image of a beautiful blonde woman opening the wooden box and tucking him into bed. She kissed his head and promised she'd always be there to protect him as the music box sang him off to sleep. She always said they'd eventually get off this island and set sail as a family one day. It had kept his father hoping and his sisters smiling.   
Day by day they waited to be rescued and the island got worse. Rot grew, no sunlight shone through the thick clouds, and crime ruled the streets. Soon she stopped saying they'd set sail. Not long after that she stopped speaking altogether. His father had always worried she'd end up like this. She wasn't a villain after all, she wasn't meant for this life.   
Then one day “they” came and took Harry’s mother to Auradon . The pirate prince never knew how they managed the transport, only that a group of people showed up to the pier and carried her off across the sea in a carriage on a golden bridge.   
Captain Killian Jones..no..Captain Hook, was not the same after that. His violent streak grew and soon he was passing it along to his children now that his wife wasn’t there to quell his anger. Harry had become as ruthless as his father, helping to create mass destruction around the island to pass time.   
The song continued to play and Harry shook his head, pulling himself out of the past. Growing rage replaced nostalgia and Harry’s eyes narrowed. He ran at Carlos and the music box, his hook raised.  
This song was her, she was gone, dead on the mainland.   
He needed to destroy it, to rid the world and his heart of the memory...the illusion of happiness. Happiness was weakness.   
His father had told him that she had died in Auradon, that her heart was too pure to exist in a place filled with such evil. She had passed alone, without her family to comfort her.   
Stop the song, stop the pain.  
Carlos grabbed up the box and dodged the hook flying through the air towards it. What the hell was the pirate’s deal? Didn't he go through that show on the barge just to get Carlos to fix the device? Why did he want to destroy it?  
With no time to think, Carlos had to dodge another hook attack. Harry was almost feral, chasing the De Vil heir through the once grand Captain’s quarters.  
“Harry, what are you doing?! Stop!”  
The pirate was deaf to his words, and continued to chase him with a ferocity that Carlos had never seen before.  
“HARRY STOP!”  
Harry was using his sword now as well, gracelessly jumping over fallen furniture and striking too close for Carlos’s comfort.  
“This is all you have left of your mother!” Carlos shouted, holding the music box to his chest to protect it.  
The sword was buried in the wooden frame an inch away from Carlos’s ear. Harry was out of breathe, staring right at the box.  
The silence stretched on, both boys trying to catch their breath.   
Carlos managed to collect himself enough to ask, “Harry...are you ok?”  
The pirate seem to come back to reality, pulling his sword from the wooden frame behind Carlos. “I...I haven't heard it in so long. I don't know..what came over meh.” His words were quiet, almost as if he were talking to himself. He sheathed his sword and took a few steps back, stabilizing himself on the tipped desk. “I just knew it needed teh be stopped.”  
Carlos looked down at the box and the hard work that was almost destroyed. “You..I think you were sad and you didn't know how to express it. You..lashed out.” Carlos was used to talking himself down from a heated situation, having to deal with his mother on a near constant basis.  
Harry turned his harsh gaze up to the smaller boy’s eyes. “What did ya say, pup?” The words were still quiet, but carried an angry tone. How dare this kid ask such bold questions.   
“I..I think you're hurt, angry. Just, take a minute. I can step out if you want-”  
“Go.”  
This was the angriest Carlos had heard him and yet his words were still quiet, almost a low growl.  
The younger teen started moving towards the door. “Leave the box, pup.” Harry reached out for the box. “Promise I won't break it.”  
Carlos slowly walked over and handed the pirate his heirloom. Not wanting to overstay his welcome, the De Vil heir turned and nearly ran for the door, leaving Harry to his tune and thoughts.


	7. Hell Hall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter took so long, the story is still going, life has just been a bit hectic and left little time for writing and editing.

The street that lead to the dark, deteriorating mansion known as Hell Hall, was silent and ominous as usual. The iron bars that shot up from various parts of the manor were twisted in all different ways. The white paint was stained and the black paint was chipping, revealing the deteriorated sheetrock. The grand door that led to the De Vil estate was crooked and warped. 

Like all the other castles and mansions that were plucked from their soil on the mainland and disposed of on the island, Hell Hall looked off set and uninviting. The whole island looked like a puzzle with no matching pieces. Castles next to caves and paved streets that turned to Cobblestone. 

The interior of Hell Hall was nightmarish. Tall ceilings hung with haunting chandeliers, draped in black, white and red fabrics. The couches and chairs were leather, plush or fur, while the desks and bureaus were ebony, Brazilian cherry and oak. 

Although the decor was all worn and misshapen, there was not a speck of dust that could be found on any of it. The interior of Hell Hall was known to be the cleanest place on the island, although the outside would say differently. Cruella saw to it that Carlos had learned to clean at a very early age. Luckily, he was a quick study and learned that if he cleaned well enough he could escape the worst of his mother’s wrath.

He was smart to have completed his chores that morning before he had embarked on his mission. A mission he had totally forgot about! Carlos was so caught up in being kidnapped by Harry Hook that he had completely forgotten the barge. Quickly, he rummaged through his bag, underneath the radio, he grabbed the lipstick and lace glove he had scored for his mother. 

Not even a second later the sound of high heels on marble stairs rang throughout the manor. Although the scent of smoke had already clung to every surface in the house, there was always a strong cloud of it when his mother entered a room. 

Her long bathrobe with fur edging hit each stair as she descended, one hand on the banister, while the other held a long cigarette holder between two fingers. Her famous black and white locks were rolled tight to her head, but that didn't make her less intimidating. She stopped about three steps from the bottom, casually leaning over the banister, starring Carlos down. 

The teen swung his bag over his shoulder and approached his mother. Carlos looked up and she sneered, taking in his appearance.

“If you're going to constantly soil yourself, perhaps you should wear rags rather than having to constantly clean the fur bits.” He quickly gave himself a once over, not realizing he was covered in dirt, and dust, not to mention who knows what from the barge. He place the bag down making a poor job or brushing himself off. 

“Honestly, darling, your attempts are futile. It'll have to be cleaned. Next time you go dumpster diving, wear something less inclined to attract debris.” She sounded unenthusiastic, nonchalantly lighting her cigarette. “Now, what did you bring mommy?” 

Carlos held the lipstick and glove up to his mother, as if she was on a platform. Cruella reached down to examine the glove first. “A popped stitch and the beading needs to be tightened. Honestly, you'd think those princesses would repair their own things instead of tossing them out.” She then grabbed the lipstick container. Holding the cigarette in her mouth and studying the small tube up close. “Well, look at this! Blue Fairy’s collection.” She pulled the top off, twisting the stick up. It was barely used! 

“Now this is a treasure and a disappointment. A rare line and rarely used. Must have been the wrong shade for whatever idiot bought it.” Cruella then turned her attention to her son again.

“Did you complete the list?”

“This morning before I left”

She paused a moment, playing with the container. 

“...and what did my Carlos obtain for himself?” She motioned towards his bag. He half smiled and held up the broken radio. “I think I can use it for my transmitter!” His excitement was always wasted on his mother. 

“A shame you pour all that mathematical skills into schematics when you could use it for patterning.” She turned and ascended the stairs, with a regality seldom seen on the Isle, not giving her son another thought. 

Carlos breathed a silent sigh of relief, stuffing the radio back into his bag and heading for his treehouse. He wanted to get right to work, having wasted so much time with the pirate. 


End file.
